Vivian and Evan

Vivian takes her self-appointed role of being Evan's Big Sister quite seriously.

We'd heard stories of jealousy by older siblings on the arrival of the new one. Vivian was the center of our universe for the last three years and she was well aware of that. So we were at least a bit apprehensive. On the other hand, from the time we had shared the news of Jo's pregnancy with Vivian, we tried to frame it as a good thing for all of us. Hey, wow - you get to be the Big Sister. And to her credit she's always been very positive about it.

Vivian and I work through the usual bouts of "I want Mommy to put me to bed". And in the days soon after Evan's birth, Vivian became quite a bit more clingy to Jo and had a few minor episodes of backtracking to behaving like she was younger than she was. But in general, her desire to be "A Big Girl" generally wins out.

Recently, she has taken to trying to hug and kiss and hold Evan with much vigor, with constant reminders of "be gentle". Frequently, The Corner is called in to help with her hearing and memory.

When Evan cries in the car, Vivian steps in to do her part. She sings her heart out. And the strangest thing is that it usually works. Evan calms down and listens to her sing.

Here are two pictures of the two of them together. Jo took the second one while the two of them were rolling on a blanket on the floor one morning.

From South Africa

I didn't want to shop in South Africa but I knew that I needed to get something back for the kids. So I took the easy way out and went with Monisha and Tushar to the Rosebank roof top market on my last Sunday in Jo-burg. We ate carrot cake, drank coffee, tasted biltong and bought Evan a t-shirt and Vivian a summer dress. I knew I wouldn't remember the artist's name, so I asked her if I could take a photograph.

the artist has a stall at the Rosebank Sunday rooftop market

Vivian showing off her South African dress

Evan in a pair of jeans shorts for the first time

I Speak Bengali

The other day Courtney asked Vivian what languages she spoke. Without any hesitation, Vivian replied "I speak Bengali". That's my mother tongue. It's spoken in the Indian state of West Bengal and in Bangladesh. I can't read or write Bangla ("Bengali" in Bengali), but I'd be able to easily find my way around Kolkata or Dhaka. Vivian doesn't speak it at all. But she knows that Dadu and I do. Now that my dad is here, we occasionally translate a few words for her in Bangla. Specially at the dinner table. But I need to do better with her and start early with Evan.

Here are some picture of Vivian dressing up at the Shah's. Once a while she dresses up in a Indian dress and say's "Look - I'm Indian".

Ghengis Khan

This morning Vivian and Jen and I went to Ramsey park for a workout. While I was doing pushups and sucking air I noticed that Vivian was stomping on ants or bugs and screaming "Kill!". While Jen was studiously pretending not to notice, I felt I had to say something. During my next pushup, I said "Vivian". No effect. And a few more cries of "kill!". I finally stood up and repeated her name at least six times before she looked up with mild surprise ("Are you talking to me?"). I tried to explain "Honey - if it isn't hurting you and you aren't planning to eat it, don't kill it".

"But it may bite me. Kill! Kill!"

I went back to my pushups. If I find a roach in the house, I carry it outside alive and toss it in the yard. What are we doing wrong?

Spreading the Blame

A couple of days ago Jo found some bed sheets bundled up in Vivian's play clothes basket. She had set them out on the carpet earlier in the day and wondered how they had ended up being stuffed in the basket. So Jo asked Vivian if she had done it.

Without breaking stride Vivian replied "I didn't do it". About 5 seconds later she added "I think Arun did it". While riding piggy-back on me!

I stammered and replied that I hadn't done it and I was "Daddy" and not "Arun". She gave a shrug and held her hands up for mommy as if to say "OK - who are you going to believe?".

She is shy of 3 and a half. Am I doomed?

Evan Meets Dadu

My dad - Vivian's and Evan's Dadu (pronunciation tip: "daah-doo" - both "d" sounds are like in "the") arrived this morning. After giving Vivian a big hug he turned his attention to Evan. Jo managed to capture the moment with her handy iPhone camera. And post it to Facebook minutes after the event and hours before this blog.

I must say grandpa and grandson looked pretty happy. I have mentioned it on the blog before - Evan is statistical outlier for Haripada, my grandpa. He had eleven children and over fifty great grandchildren, and Evan is the first (and very likely last) son of a son of a son of Haripada.

Here's a picture of my dad holding Vivian in early summer 2007 when she was just a few days older than Evan.

My dad is very hard of hearing. So Vivian is having to adjust - when she speaks to him, we ask her to try to make eye contact. Or to touch his arm so he knows that she's talking to him. That however has not slowed her down from chatting away with him the moment he arrived. When he got home from the airport, she threw open the front door and cried "Grandpa - hello. Come see Evan - he is no longer in Mommy's belly".

Four Kids

This evening for a couple of hours, Jo and I had four kids: Brandon and Hailey in addition to ours. Two 3-year olds, a 1-year old and Evan who turned three months old earlier this week. As kids go, they are a well-behaved bunch. After a few days of acting like a freak and being prone to fits, Vivian was good. She and Brandon played well together as always. Hailey was calm and sweet tempered. Evan was not cranky.

Then Hailey started to crawl into the bathroom and help herself to cat food. Evan gurgled some spit-up. Brandon chased the cat. Vivian tried to dress Brandon up in her dresses. In this case and in general, we managed to restore calm without panic. But a nagging sensation of being on the verge of instability persisted.

I looked at Jo and said "I feel like I'm living in a day care". She replied "and that's why we don't have four kids". Amen.

ps. I finally downloaded a picture of Hailey from my camera. She's calm and serious and cute.

Evan in the Water

In an effort two get caught up on posting Evan's pictures, I am putting two somewhat unrelated pictures together. The first is a picture of an early bath. Not the first - but when he was about a month old. The second is from about a month ago - Evan's first time in the pool. Is Jo happy or what?

Tea Party

Vivian invited some friends over for a Tea Party. This happened a couple of months ago - I am finally catching up with my daughter's hectic social life.

The young ladies - Eleanor, Mackenzie, Natalie and Vivian, first dressed up. Then they drank hot chocolate and ate cookies and fruit salad after which they jumped on the trampoline and splashed in the baby pool.

Stanton Lake

Stanton Lake a small lake at the edge of Falls City in Nebraska. A wide parking lot in front of the lake has hookups for RVs. At one end of the lake is Candlelight Cabin - an authentic log cabin with a remodeled interior.

Jo grew up in Falls City. On previous trips we have driven past their various homes. And her elementary school. And the Pizza Kitchen where she worked.

It is here by Stanton Lake that we spend a week each summer (I skipped last summer). By day we sit under RV awnings or in the shade of the big trees in the park. Nicolle books the cabin for the weekend - where the extended fam and friends meet and eat. We grill at the park. And we eat crunch cones (soft serve ice cream covered with a crunchy mix that looks like crushed granite) at the Frosty Queen. Sometimes we swim at the new Falls City swimming pool.

I'm probably the only person from India in the county. My nieces and nephews are the only black kids and my sisters-in-law are the only openly gay women I've seen up here. But coming back here feels like returning someplace comfortable. I feel like I know everyone or know someone who does. And except for the surly teenage girls manning the cash register the swimming pool, everyone is very friendly. And even more so after they trace my reason for being here to the Burns/Schwang families.

People start showing up unannounced a few hours after we arrive. Cousins and aunts and uncles and friends trickle in and stay for awhile. They bring pies and goodies and chairs to sit on. Their kids take Vivian and her New Braunfels cousins under their wing and run around the park. When Vivian says she needs to go potty, Nicolle's friend's mother takes her to the bathroom. Evan is handed off from woman to woman. I see my kids once a while (like when Evan poops on Kim :-).

Evan and Aunt Francis facing off

Evan and Hatch

chatting on the screened-in porch of Candlelight Cabin

On Saturday morning, Brian and Tracy and Kim and Amy and Aunt Anna take us for the customary farm tour and to see Uncle Tom's new shed and get the kids up close to the corn.

the new shed

the old shed

the barn

weed growing wild

Even to my very untrained eye, there is a lot of corn this year. Falls City and the farms around here show signs of modest prosperity. The new Vision Inn is fully booked up. There are no hookups left at the RV campground. There is a new library, hospital and swimming pool. The old Stevenson Hotel is being remodeled and re-opened as the Grand Weaver Hotel. New grain silos, barns and sheds are popping up in the fields and along gravel roads. We joke "Falls City - the New Disney World".

Vivian and Evan, I hope you continue to come back to Stanton Lake.

Back Home

The World Cup was nice. It's great to be back.

Seeing Jo at Austin airport made me realize one more time how much I had missed her. Several thoughts ran through my head. One was that the last 15 days had been the longest we have been apart. Which in turn led to the next one: I hope Jo likes Brazil in 2014.

About 15 minutes later, Courtney was handing Evan to me. His face looked about the same but the rest of him was different - so much bigger than I remembered. He looked at me for a second or two and then turned away and looked at Jo as if to say "Who the fuck is this and what am I supposed to do with him?" But then his eyes came back to me and he welcomed me back with smiles and then laughs and all kinds of gurgles and squeals.

Soon it was time to get Vivian. When we had last Skyped I had promised her that I would be there to pick her up from school on Tuesday. She remembers these things. So when the weird hour-long security check at Dakar (if you've flown through there you know what I mean - where they pull the seats off their frames and search the aircraft) held us up, I kept my fingers crossed. And when the immigration line at Dulles airport was a mile long, I crossed my fingers again.

I will remember the look on Vivian's face as she ran up and jumped into my arms. They say being a parent has its rewards. This was a big one.

Vivian having a go at her vuvuzela

Did I say it's nice to be back? After about 20 hours in Austin, we got into a car and drove off towards the corn fields of Nebraska. Oh - and Evan hates being in his car seat. But that's another story.

South Africa

When Tushar called from Johannesburg to ask if I wanted to see some of the World Cup, I felt I had to say yes. For most of the past year I had been talking like I was going. But that was before Evan was born. And yes, knowing that he was due on a certain date was different from holding him in my hands. And not seeing Vivian and Jo for a month seemed like a long time.

I settled on a compromise - a shortened trip where I would catch the quarters, semis and the final.

Johannesburg felt like everyone there had just had a double cappuccino. It was at once sprawling and crowded and energetic and luxurious and crime-ridden and bustling and soccer crazy. My first appointment with a live game took me to the famed Soccer City stadium on the outskirts of Soweto. On the bus trip there, a young woman who was also headed to see the game painted my friends' faces with the Ghana colors. Everyone was your best friend.

The Ghana-Uruguay game will probably be remembered as one of the greatest Wold Cup games ever. A summary for those who missed it: Ghana scored in added time at the end of the half to take the lead. Forlan scored a superb goal for Uruguay that silenced the stadium. Suarez handled the ball on the goal line in the dying moments of extra time to deny Ghana a win. Gyan missed the resulting penalty when the ball hit the top of the cross-bar and shot up into the air. Uruguay prevailed in PKs. 98% of the stadium supported Ghana. The atmosphere was electric. The vuvuzelas were deafening during normal play. At crucial moments it was mind-numbingly loud.

Soccer City Stadium before the Ghana-Uruguay game

Black Star fans everywhere

Forlan takes a corner against Ghana

Greenpoint Stadium Cape Town - night of Holland's last win

Dutch supporters at Soccer City Stadium before the final

Final: Spain-Holland kick-off

Spain wins!

I had the good fortune of being in Berlin days after the Wall had fallen. I was standing around on my last evening there with my camera in hand when a flat-bed truck picked up Checkpoint Charlie and carried it away. Being in South Africa during the World Cup felt that way - as if there was a certain smell in the air - the smell of history being made.

Complete strangers were amazingly warm and friendly - even after accounting for the euphoria surrounding the world cup and the amount of alcoholic beverages consumed. SA is truly a rainbow nation. It is amazing to see so many races and their mixtures and combinations living in harmony, especially when you consider what it was like a mere 16 years ago. My home country, India and my adopted home, America would do well to take a lesson or two from the people of South Africa.

And finally, Vivian & Evan - you may never see Nelson Mandela, the last of dying breed of statesmen, in person. But you can tell your friends that you Dad was out there in the stands along with 84,490 cheering fans when Mandela came out to take a bow for bringing the World Cup to Africa and Africa to the world.

p.s. Tushar, Vanessa - you have inspired me to be a better host. Thanks for showing me two slices of South Africa from the eyes of a local.

Cape Town

I don't think about buying a vacation home because there are so many other great places still left to visit. But Cape Town made me think twice or thrice.

I got there one morning at 4:45am on a Kalula airlines flight from Lanseria airport after an evening of partying in Joburg. My first few minutes in Cape Town were slightly frantic. Vanessa's address and phone number (along with everyone else's) was in my iPhone and the battery was dead. A kindly baggage handler lent me her charger till my iPhone had enough juice for me to scribble the address down and find a cab.

Vanessa and Alexandra were staying at a friend's beach house near Camp's Bay and were kind enough to invite me to stay with them and show me their city. The beach house had a stunning view of the Atlantic crashing into huge rocks on one side and Table Mountain and the Twelve Apostles towering over the house on the other. Sunrise and sunset were spectacular. And then there was the curious feeling when I sat down on the toilet or reached to turn off a light or pull open a cabinet. The house was like our home in Austin but in an alternate universe - different enough to be weirdly the same.

Cape Point

Table Mountain from the deck

Alexandra at the beach

After five days of soccer-related activities and wine-tasting and clubbing and an all-round great time, I was missing Cape Town even before I left. The plan is to return with the fam during summer (theirs). I think Jo will like it.

Dear Diary (And Vicky)

Yes - its been ages. Thirty six days to be precise. The longest stretch by far during which the blog has idled. But wait - there's a simple explanation: the World Cup.

Meanwhile, contrary to popular belief, the world spun and Vivian and Evan grew up. Evan learned to roll and to hold his head up and to laugh. Vivian finished swim and gymnastics classes and started her summer school program. One morning on Skype, she pointed out where South Africa was in an atlas and said "Daddy - don't be sad. Even if you are in South Africa, you are still my daddy".

It was time to go home and resume life and blog. Over the next few posts, I'll fill you in with pictures and stories from the last month. It's nice to be back.